The Purest Blood
by ThisRisingMusic
Summary: After Harry is bitten by a Vampire, he finds he has to turn to a most unexpected ally to help him understand what is happening. Harry's new perspective will not only change the course of the war, but will also change the course of his life.
1. Chapter 1

Title: _The Purest Blood _

Pairing: _Draco/Harry _

Summary: _After Harry is bitten by a Vampire, he finds he has to turn to a most unexpected ally to help him understand what is happening. Harry's new perspective will not only change the course of the war, but also of his life. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing!  
_

A/N: _Those of you reading my story, "As the Darkness Clears", will recognize some of the storyline in this first chapter, namely Harry complaining about a lot of the same stuff. But no worries – this story goes in an entirely different direction. Also, I'm still writing "As the Darkness Clears", I'll just be working on both ^ ^ _

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* * *

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Bang! Bang! Bang!

Harry woke up with a start when someone banged hard on the door to his cupboard. Reacting instinctively, he shot out his hand in search of his wand, then remembered that the Dursley's had taken that – along with everything else – almost the moment he had returned from his fifth year at Hogwarts. Besides, he recognized the heavy breathing on the other side of the door; it was only Dudley. What _time _was it? He felt like he'd only dropped off to sleep a few moments ago.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Happy birthday, Harry!" Dudley chortled from the other side of the door.

Harry's eyes widened. This could not be good. The Dursleys rarely remembered that he existed, much less that he had a birthday. Dudley himself had never acknowledged it before. Reluctantly, he pushed open the door to his cupboard and crawled out, batting a few spiders off his clothes and out of his hair. Dudley was standing in the darkened hallway, a wicked grin on his face that could only mean horrible things for Harry.

Harry frowned when he noticed a strange flickering of light from under the kitchen door. What was going on? Before he could ask, Dudley mocked,

"What's wong, Hawwy? Don't you want you pwesent?

Laughing, Dudley left the room and went into the kitchen, Harry at his heels. Through the screen door that led from the kitchen to the backyard, Harry could see the dancing brilliance of a large bonfire, and Vernon, his beefy, cruel face lit by the red flames, tossing something in that looked horribly like Hedwig's cage.

"No!"

Harry pushed Dudley aside, ignoring his cousins laughter, and darted out into the yard, pausing to stare in absolute horror at the scene before him. Everything was burning... his wand, his broom, his cauldron, his books, parchments, robes and potions ingredients, and Hedwig's cage, perched on top. He gave a low cry of relief to see that Hedwig was not _in _her cage. Judjing by the bent metal around the door to the cage and Vernon's bleeding fingers, Hedwig must have fought back and escaped before they tossed her cage into the flames.

Despite the overwhelming heat of the fire, Harry felt frozen and numb at the sight of this birthday bonfire. His entire life was in that pile of wood and flame; everything that separated his life at Hogwarts from the dismal life he led here. And no matter how bad things at Hogwarts got, Hogwarts was his _home_. The only place he felt truly safe and cared for. And it was all burning away. _They _had burned it up.

Harry whirled to face his uncle.

"_How could you_?" He screamed, launching himself mindlessly at Vernon. "This stuff is mine! It's _mine_!"

Vernon shoved Harry off of him easily and snatched him up by the collar of his shirt, hoisting him up into the air as if he weighed nothing at all.

"Wrong. When you brought it into my house, that _stuff _became mine! You don't need that crap anymore! You're never going back to that school, you freak! _Never_! This _stuff _will never taint my home again!"

Vernon paused in his shouting and looked up as thunder crashed overhead and it began to rain, first steadily, then heavier and heavier with each passing second, as if it's force mounted with the fury within Harry and his uncle. Vernon smiled nastily, looking more disgusting then ever with his thinning, oily hair plastered to his face by the rain. He dropped Harry into the wet grass and gestured to the smoking pile of rubble in the corner.

"Clean this mess up. Then get inside. You start at St. Brutus' Camp for Delinquents tomorrow."

Harry stared at Vernon in shock, but his uncle only laughed, turned, and walked inside, leaving Harry alone in the pouring rain. Already soaked to the bone and shivering slightly, Harry fixed his eyes on the moon up above him, his mind blank. Water ran in rivulets down his cheeks, as if he were crying. The tears that had filled his eyes, however, were blinked back fiercely. Brokenhearted, Harry glanced over at the burned pile of rubble that was all that was left of everything he had owned. All the presents from his friends had also been burned; everything he owned except the few meager clothes he had from Dudley, as well as the Marauder's Map and the Invisibility Cloak, neither of which the Dursley's knew about, and both of which Harry kept on him at all times.

Still, they were a small comfort when everything else was just... gone. And as he stared at that pile of rubble, he imagined it was his life. Once a pile of brilliant things, things that meant everything to him, it was now just a scorched, blackened pile of wood, paper and metal, with no meaning to anyone anymore. The past six years of his life flew past his mind in a torrent of regrets, betrayals, pain, war and battle. And as he crouched there, shuddering and sobbing in the cold rain, his heart began to harden against everything his life had become.

His Headmaster had proven to be afraid of the Dark Lord after avoiding him for a year and nearly getting himself and his friends killed. His friends had betrayed him by showing that their true loyalty would always be to Dumbledore, and not to him. His godfather, the one person left in the world he trusted completely, was dead. The Order, too, had turned their back on him, turning their attention to more important things. After a month, the Dursley's had realized that no one meant to come for Harry. They'd locked him in the cupboard, and taken away all of his things, including Hedwig. Now, all of that was gone for good.

And now he could never return to Hogwarts. His uncle had already enrolled him in ' Camp for Juvenile Delinquents, as it was officially called, and he would continue to go there in September, when Hogwarts started up it's year again. Harry had been sure, when Vernon had told his sister of St. Brutus' a few years before, that he had made it up. Apparently not. Harry didn't know what strings his uncle had pulled to get him in there, and he didn't care. He didn't care about much these days. Weakly, he crawled closer to the charred bonfire of his life, and finally began to cry, releasing the tears that he had struggled to hold back.

And, just as he had years ago, when all this began, he whispered quietly to himself, alone in the darkness where no one could hear, "Happy Birthday To Me..."

* * *

Bang! Bang! Bang!

In that split second of half-wakefulness, half-sleep that came before Harry woke up completely, he imagined that the loud banging he heard was Dudley, pounding on his cupboard door again. This was especially easy to imagine after dreaming of the night of the bonfire, something he did often when he wasn't having nightmares about Sirius' death. However, he quickly woke up fully, and remembered where he was.

Harry James Potter, or, as many of the boys as ' called him, "Scar", leapt from his bed and dressed in record speed in the ugly gray jumpsuit that had been his uniform for the past two weeks, then pulled on his boots and laced them quickly. He finished making his bed just as the inspector entered the room, and he hurried to line up in a row beside the other boys of St. Brutus'.

Anyone who had known Harry before his two week stay at ' would hardly have recognized him now. It was amazing what fourteen days of hell had done to him. Because, despite it's other faults, St. Brutus' did feed it's students well, Harry no longer looked malnourished, though he was still small for his age. Instead of being scrawny, two weeks of intense physical exercise was starting to add muscle, to make his body lean and strong. His black hair naturally messy, had grown longer, and because the nurse at St. Brutus' – to her confusion and slight fear – had already discovered she could not shave Harry's head without it growing back exactly the same the next day, it had stayed that way. It was now pulled back into a small ponytail, making him look somewhat like a pirate from days of old. A new scar had been added to the one of his forehead and the one on the back of his hand, this one a three-inch scar on his jaw line from a knife fight. He also had a black eye and a broken nose, proud symbols of other fights he'd been in since his arrival.

Aside from the physical differences in Harry, there was also something... darker in him, something that had not been there before. Always, despite his difficult and often lonely life, he had been optimistic, light hearted; a loving boy who saw the best in people. While part of him still felt that way, another part of him felt broken, shattered. Many of the people he had once believed in had turned their back on him, and now he had no one, nothing. Sometimes, he wanted to get rid of the invisibility cloak and marauder's map, too, just so he wouldn't have to be reminded of the life he had left behind. But he could never make himself do it.

With a sigh, Harry waited for inspection to be over, knowing that today was going to be another hard day.

* * *

Three hours later, Harry was out in the yard with several of the other boys, doing pull-ups on a rusty pipe that had been fitted on the top of two poles outback. Their workout equipment was primitive at best, but Harry, and the others, usually looked forward to the times between chores and classes where they got to hang around the yard and work out. It was also one of the only times they were allowed to talk to the other boys, and just stretching or lifting weights was a good way to get some amount of rest. Harry glanced up at the overcast, dark sky and wondered grimly if it were going to rain, then spotted one of the other boys walking over to him and dropped down from the bar, quickly snatching a free weight when one of the instructors scowled in his direction.

The boy who approached was named Razor, or at least, that was the only name he went by. He'd been at St. Brutus' since he was ten years old, and he was Harry's closest friend in this place, or rather, the closest thing one could have to a friend in a place like St. Brutus'. Razor, despite the fact he'd been in this place six years already, was far from the toughest boy here. But he certainly looked far tougher then many of them, Harry included. His hair was shaven down to the stubble of a crew cut that all other boys but Harry were forced to wear. His dark, fathomless eyes screamed of a horrific past, and his body, stronger then Harry's, was a mess of scars, bruises, cuts and sores.

The boy got his name for his love of knives. Although the instructors would confiscate any knives they found, they never found any of Razors. When necessary, he could pull a blade from anywhere, as if he had them hidden all over his body. And he used the knives well. He'd given Harry one on his second day at St. Brutus', which Harry now kept in his boot, and he'd been teaching Harry how to use it, as well. Harry was glad for a friend like Razor, because aside from the company, Razor had also been his protector as Harry himself grew stronger, more able to care for himself.

Now, Razor grinned crookedly as he too, picked up a free weight, lifting and lowering it easily under the instructor's watchful eye.

"How ya doin', Scar?" The boy asked cheerfully; despite his harsh looks he was always friendly to Harry.

"Alright." Harry replied with a customary half-shrug. "I've got kitchen duty tonight."

Razor winked. "Me too! I bribed Scrap."

Harry glanced across the courtyard at Scrap, the smallest boy there. He was even smaller then Harry, being about two years younger. If anyone needed a knife – Razor's only bargaining tool, as far as Harry knew – it was that kid. Besides, kitchen duty was well loved because it got people out of evening workouts. If anyone needed to buff up, it was Scrap, especially if he were going to be forced to stay in this place. Scrap had only been there a little longer then Harry, but instead of making him stronger it seemed to make him weaker; he looked as if he grew more pale and weak every day.

"Great." He grinned. Kitchen duty was incredibly boring by oneself or with someone you didn't know well.

"You don't get it do you?" Razor asked, looked exasperated, "Tonight's the night, Scar!"

Harry frowned. "The night for _what_?"

"Our grand escape, o' course!"

Harry groaned audibly, not caring if it was rude. Razor was always trying to escape, and since Harry had arrived the boy seemed more then happy to rope Harry into his crazy escape plans. Razor had been here six years already, if none of his escapes had worked before, why did he think they would work now? Harry had already tried escaping with him last week; not because he really cared about escaping, but because Razor was his friend, and it seemed important to him. They'd gotten in a ton of trouble and still had extra chores and classwork as part of their punishment.

"I don't know, Razor..." He muttered.

"Trust me!" Razor said cheerfully, "It's perfect! We'll both be working kitchen duty! At the end of the night, when we take the garbage out back, there won't be any instructors around, and we'll be right next to the perimeter fence!"

"And how are we supposed to climb it?" Harry demanded. "We only got half way up last time."

Razor snorted. "_You _only got halfway up last time. I could have made it, if the instructors hadn't found out what we were up to. This time, you're stronger, and we'll have more time."

Razor looked earnestly at him and Harry sighed. He didn't see much of a point in running – he didn't know where he would go or what he would do. But his friend obviously thought he needed him to escape. So why not? He could always just get caught again later. With a shrug, he nodded his consent.

"Woot!" Razor punched a fist in the air, seeming not to realize he was still clutching the free weight. "Great! See ya at kitchen duty tonight, mate!"

And with that, Razor dropped the free weights as if they were as light as feathers, and crossed the yard to continue his workout. With yet another heartfelt sigh, Harry dropped his weights as well and hoisted himself up on the pull-up bar once more.

* * *

Kitchen duty was finally winding to a close, as Harry and Razor finished wiping off the tables from dinner and washing the dishes in the back room. Despite the fact that Harry didn't really care how the events of the night turned out, he felt nerves dancing in his belly – after all, his friend was counting on him. His knife was securely tucked in his boot, the marauder's map and invisibility cloak tucked into the deep pockets of his jumpsuit.

Across the kitchen, Razor shot him a meaningful look. He'd finished with the tables then. Harry hurried through the last couple of dishes, dried his hands on a towel and hoisted two bags of garbage over his shoulders. Razor snatched the last bag, and proceeded him out the door. They had ten minutes before they were supposed to meet up with the instructor outside the kitchen. Much past that, and the instructor would come looking for them. As soon as they had deposited the bags in the trash bin, Razor tugged hard on it's handle, and, to Harry's disbelief, began to drag the heavy bin in front of the door to the kitchen, blocking the way in case the instructor came after him. Harry hurried to help, although Razor scarcely seemed to need it. The other boy truly was very strong.

That done, Harry and Razor turned to the fence, and, as one, leapt as high as they could onto the fence, latching on with their feet and hands. Razor nearly dropped the two heavy towels he had snatched from the storage cupboard; towels that would not only help them over the wire at the top but would provide some comfort against the cold until they could find a place to stay.

"Careful" Harry muttered.

"I'll worry about these, you worry about that food." Razor snapped in return.

Harry blinked at his friend's tone, but decided the other boy was just stressed about getting caught. They climbed as quickly at they could, the cold metal of the chain link biting into their skin. Harry's feet slipped a few times and when they did his body slammed against the fence, making it shake. It was then that Harry had been glad for his exercises, the ones that not only gave him the strength to hold on with just his hands but also allowed him to haul himself up and keep climbing. They were further now, then they had been before, and Harry had to keep fighting the urge to look down, especially when he heard the doors to the kitchens rattling, and fierce, angry shouting from the other side of the door.

"They've found out." Harry muttered through the effort of climbing.

"Keep going." Razor answered. "We're almost to the top."

The boys reached the top of the fence, and Razor hurriedly used one hand to toss the towels from his shoulder over the top of the barbed wire fence. They scrambled over, the thick cloth providing them some protection. Still, Harry scratched his hands and legs more then once, and felt his jumpsuit tear when a barb got him. He prayed it didn't rip his pocket, because despite Razor being his only friend here, he didn't want the other boy to know about the Marauder's map or the invisibility cloak, nor did he want them getting damaged.

Razor snatched the blankets up again, shaking the fence roughly as he tried to untangle them from the barbed wire with one hand, as he clutched the fence with the other. Harry helped as best he could, and when the slightly worse-for-wear towels were finally slung over Razor's shoulder once more, they scrambled down. Somehow, climbing down was easier then climbing up, though Harry dreaded putting his foot in the wrong place and falling. The fence was high enough that it would _really _hurt to fall from this height. When they were half-way down, the instructors finally got around the side of the building.

"Get back in here, boys! Now!"

Harry felt as if they were escaping from a high-security prion, rather then a camp for 'delinquents'. An alarm was blaring somewhere within the building, and the instructors pulled out batons, beating at them through the fence or clutching at their clothes. Harry and Razor struggled out of their grasps.

"Jump!" Razor shouted.

Harry glanced down at the ten-foot drop and winced, but jumped anyway, landing hard on the ground. Razor was up first, hauling Harry to his feet. Limping slightly, Harry ran after Razor best he could, until the sight of St. Brutus' vanished, and they were swallowed up by trees on either side of them. Still, they ran, weaving between the trees to make themselves harder to find. Harry had no idea where they were, or in which direction they were heading, but it didn't really matter. Eventually, after what seemed like hours of running, they came to a small creek that ran through the woods. Without hesitation, Razor plunged into it and began walking upstream through the water, which was shockingly icy despite the early-August weather.

"Are you crazy?" Harry cried, "What are you doing? They aren't going to send dogs after us!"

"They won't," Razor hissed back, "But the police might. Stop making so much _noise_!"

Grudgingly, Harry followed, pushing through the water after Razor, his legs shaking with the effort of walking against the current after the climb, the jump and the run. Once again, they went on for what seemed like hours, before Razor climbed from the water and onto the bank, leaning against a tree.

"We can rest, for a while." He said. "I'll take first watch. You sleep."

Harry barely heard him. He just hauled himself out of the water, scrambled onto dry land, wrapped himself in one of the tattered towels, and dropped into unconsciousness.

* * *

They had been traveling for three days. At least, Harry was pretty sure it had been three days. It was a little hard to tell out here. They'd managed to stay in the woods the entire time, though sometimes Harry heard signs of more urban life on the other side of the trees. Whenever that happened, Razor veered them deeper into the woods. And Harry didn't know why. He was starting to get a little worried. Their food supply was practically gone – even with Razor barely eating any of it. He had no idea where they were going, or why Razor was so determined to avoid other people. He didn't think anyone would recognize them.

Occasionally, he asked Razor where they were going, what the _plan _was. But Razor had always replied with an easy grin and a, "Trust me, Scar". Harry was finding that harder and harder to do. Besides, Razor seemed as if he were getting sick. He looked incredibly pale, even in the dark cover of the forest, and seemed to be getting weaker, much as Scrap had at St. Brutus'. Harry had tried to get him to eat his share of the food, but Razor had refused. The other boy was also losing his temper more often, getting snappish and harsh for no reason. Harry didn't know what to make of it all, but he knew he couldn't leave Razor in the woods to fend for himself. So he trailed along after his friend, feeling exhausted, hungry and miserable.

Finally, on the fifth day, Harry could stand it no more. They'd run out of food the day before, and he was starving, on top of everything else. He simply collapsed beside the trunk of a large tree and leaned his head against the bark with his eyes closed, his expression mulish.

"Harry, _get __up_." Razor hissed.

"No." He replied calmly, without opened his eyes. "No way. I'm not walking another step until I know when there's going to be food, or water, or shelter, or _anything_. I want to know where we're going."

Razor snarled his fury. "Stop joking around, Harry. Get _up_!"

Harry ignored him, but he wasn't prepared for what happened next. Faster then he should have been able to move, Razor lunged forward, snatched Harry from against the tree and flung him onto the forest floor. Harry gasped and scrambled backwards, Razor pursuing with true anger in his eyes.

"I'm sick of you wining and complaining." Razor snapped.

"Whining and complaining?" Harry repeated incredulously. "I've done very well, I think, considering I haven't eaten in two days! If we could just go to a _town_, Razor! Or if you would tell me what we were doing!"

"Oooooooh, I haven't eaten in two days!'" Razor mocked. "Get over yourself, Harry! Try not eating for five!"

"I tried to give you food!" Harry replied.

"No! You tried to give me crap! Ah, screw the mission! I'm _starving_!"

"Mission?" Harry demanded, but before he could get more then that word out, he yelped in shocked surprise as Razor lunged for his throat. Long fangs descended from the other boy's mouth, his dark eyes gleaming wickedly with the thought of blood in his mind.

_A vampire_?

Harry scrambled back once more, lurching to his feet and turning to run. He did not get very far before he was tackled from behind. As he was driven into the hard ground, he felt Razor land on top of him, the other boy's body pressing him down into the earth. Before he could try and struggle out, Razor's mouth was at his neck, the moist heat of the boy's lips and tongue on the flesh of his neck making him shiver despite himself. Then, a sharp pain as teeth pierced vein, and Razor sucked greedily on the flesh of Harry's neck, drawing in the blood and lapping it up gleefully. Harry felt the pulsing strength of the boy's mouth on his skin, the somehow erotic sucking, nibbling and licking. Then, his world started to go black, and as fiery hot pain pierced through him, he passed out.

* * *

A/N: _Of course, thanks to my summary we all know that Harry will wake up a vampire! In this story I used the Twilight version of "Turning" a human, by simply biting them,rather then the Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Anne Rice version of, they drink your blood, you drink their blood. Even though the Buffy/Anne Rice version makes more sense in general, in this story there was no reason for Harry to bite Razor, so ***shrug* **_


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** The Purest Blood

**Pairing: **Draco/Harry

**Summary: **After Harry is bitten by a Vampire, he finds he has to turn to a most unexpected ally to help him understand what is happening. Harry's new perspective will not only change the course of the war, but also of his life.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing

**A/N:** Thanks to the people who reviewed : ) Also, to address Elfwyn's question as to why Harry wouldn't just use his invisibility cloak to escape the Dursleys, Harry really had no reason to 'escape'. Yes, he didn't want to go to ', but he also wasn't sure he wanted to go back to Hogwarts, after everything. He's just kind of... numb. Letting it all happen without really caring about anything. But that will change : D Also, clearly this chapter is ignoring the fact that Lucius Malfoy was arrested at the end of OofP. Just roll with it XD

* * *

_Dumbledore's Office _

_Hogwarts _

_Later that same Day _

Dumbledore was plotting.

It was something he did often, sometimes out of necessity and sometimes just for the fun of it. It was like playing an intricate game of chess, only he had control over most of the board, and the most important pieces. There was also the added bonus that the pawns were real people, in real situations. And he had put them there. He stared down at the papers before him with glee, satisfied with the knowledge that he had put all of this into play, and everything was as it should be.

Moments later, a knock sounded at the door. Unhappy with the interruption, Dumbledore none the less hid his scowl and donned a bright, twinkling, grandfatherly smile before calling out, "Come in!" and shuffling papers around to put the more innocent ones on the top of the stack. He didn't know who was about to enter, but no matter who it was, he'd rather have them see a proposed lesson plan from McGonagall then a report outlining his ideas of how to convince Harry to get Voldemort's memories from Slughorn.

At his call, Severus Snape strode into the room, his black robes swirling around him like a cloak of shadows. On anyone else, this would have appeared over-dramatic. For Severus, it worked. He seemed a very creature of shadows himself, moving unpredictably from one place to the next, gliding along as if nothing affected him, swooping in out of nowhere when he was least expected. Because he knew Severus' darkest secret, he knew why this was. And admittedly, it still made him nervous, still filled him with disgust. But he couldn't have anyone knowing what he really thought about... Severus' kind.

"Headmaster." Severus said automatically, without waiting for an invitation to speak, "There is news. About Harry Potter."

Dumbledore blinked, a slight frown returning to his expression despite his best efforts to keep it cheerful. His plan had been to remove Harry from the Durleys in the last couple of days before school started, giving the boy only a short time to whine and complain about the unfairness of his life as he helped get Horace Slughorn back to the school. There wasn't_ supposed _be be any news about Harry yet, and it irked him that something had happened in the boy's life that he, Dumbledore, hadn't meticulously planned. He felt as if he'd left the room for a moment and Severus had snuck in while he was gone to move around his most valued piece. Then he sighed. Whatever this news was, it probably wasn't Severus' fault, especially since the man wanted to have as little to do with Harry Potter as possible.

"What about Harry?" He asked reluctantly, not sure he wanted to know. "The Weasley twins didn't break him out of his relatives home again, did they?"

"No, sir." Severus replied, "It appears that Potter's Muggle relatives are the problem this time. According to my sources, they sent him to a juvenile camp about two weeks ago, out in the middle of nowhere. We didn't even know that the boy had left the Muggle's house."

Dumbledore stood swiftly. "Two weeks ago? Why wasn't I informed?"

"We didn't know sir. Not until an hour ago. You yourself specifically told the members of the Order to leave Potter be until you were ready for him. I was only able to discover this... interesting... bit of news because Arthur Weasley was watching Muggle television and learned that two boys had escaped from a juvenile center and were on the run. He informed me of this about ten minutes ago, via floo network."

Dumbledore fumed. This was _not _according to plan! He could not have Harry running off by himself! Not _ever_, but especially not now, when he would soon play an important role at getting Horace Slughorn to teach at Hogwarts. Who knew what mischief the boy could get into! If left too long out from under his thumb, Harry might start getting dangerous ideas about who was in charge. And that could not be allowed to happen. But before his anger could show itself in front of Severus, he managed a calm expression and settled himself back into his seat. Adopting a look of kindly concern, he said,

"Well, we must find Harry as soon as possible. He's probably desperately trying to find his way back here as we speak."

* * *

_Meanwhile _

_Deep in the Forests near Wiltshire _

Harry Potter himself was, at that moment, slowly forcing himself towards wakefulness, though even as he blinked his eyes and glanced around him, the fog in his mind refused to clear entirely. Taking note of his surroundings, he realized he was lying face down on the forest floor, and that a fiery pain, a pain that seemed to come from nowhere, and from everywhere at the same time, was tearing through him. Harry fought back the screams of agony that were trying to force their way up his throat, though he felt his whole body convulse with the effort of it. He managed not to scream, but he was vaguely aware of a strange half-sobbing, half-choking sound that could only be coming from him, and that tears were pouring down his cheeks.

Using every ounce of his strength and willpower, Harry managed to roll to his hands and knees. His limbs trembled violently, barely able to support him in this state, and he wanted nothing more then to close his eyes and collapse back down into the dirt. Sleep called to him, reminding him that he could coast right past the pain, and just sleep... he might never have to wake up again. But no. He was not just any ordinary teenager. He was Harry bloody Potter and Harry bloody Potter didn't just lie there and let himself die. He'd been through worse then this... hadn't he? Forcing himself to remain on his hands and knees, he looked around him through tear-drenched eyes.

Darkness. The forest was completely cloaked in it, and the sounds of the night drifted to him on the light breeze... a hooting owl, a cricket chirping cheerfully, the haunting creaking sound of the trees shifting. Though he couldn't see much, Harry could tell that he was alone. After biting him, Razor must have fled. As his memory quickly came back to him, Harry shot one hand up to his neck, and when he pulled it away he found it was covered in blood. He felt weak, dizzy, and the pain had yet to fade. Stumbling, Harry somehow managed to find his feet, though he had to put his hand against the trunk of a tree to steady himself. Looking around, he noticed that the invisibility cloak had fallen out of his pocket, probably when he had been tackled by Razor. Snatching it up, he pulled it around his helplessly shuddering body and set off blindly, praying he would come to some sort of town soon. Because he had the sneaking suspicion that he was dying...

* * *

_About an hour later _

_Wiltshire, England _

Severus Snape strode quickly and quietly through the streets of Wiltshire, England, cursing Lucius Malfoy and his paranoia. Though he supposed he could not really blame his mate for being cautious, and ensuring that no one could apparate or floo into his home, especially considering the dangerous life both Lucius and Severus led. Still, it was a pain to have to apparate three streets away and walk to their house. He was glad for the night, however, and the darkened residential streets he walked down. It meant he hadn't needed to change into Muggle clothes before leaving Hogwarts. He kept in the shadows, walking close to the buildings.

Finally, he broke free of the rows of ordinary houses and saw the gates to Malfoy Manor, with the Manor set back from the main road. The Manor had extensive grounds, but Severus once again thanked Merlin that the house was close to the gate, and not far out along the edges of the property. A high, perfectly manicured yew hedge bordered the wide driveway that led up to and through the gate.

Severus smiled slightly at the familiar site of the one place he truly considered _home_. However, before he could reach the beginning of the driveway, he spotted something strange that made him pause in confusion. _Something _had just lurched out from the darkness of one of the side streets, and was occasionally visible under the oil-lit street lights that lined the main street. Although _what _it was was very difficult to say. At one moment, it appeared to be a shoe, then a hand, then a leg. Then Severus realized; it was someone trying, and failing, to hide under an invisibility cloak, and he only knew one person who owned one.

Turning quickly, Severus strode back down the lane towards the bumbling figure, but before he reached it, the Potter boy seemed to fall, and the invisibility cloak settled around him from the knees up. Growling his impatience and annoyance, Severus stepped closer and yanked the cloak off of the boy, pausing in some alarm at the sight before him. The boy was wearing some sort of ugly jumpsuit, which had been unzipped to the waist and tied around his hips to reveal a dirt and blood stained t-shirt underneath that had once been white. There was some kind of wound on the boy's neck, though he couldn't really see it well due to the sheer amount of blood that seemed to be pouring from the child. The boy was also crying, and his body jerked convulsively, as if he were in great pain.

Severus swore darkly. Why did things like this always happen to him? He scowled at the boy, then reluctantly picked him up, invisibility cloak and all. Even as he did so, Harry's eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell into unconsciousness, though his body did not stop it's pained shuddering. Severus strode back towards the manor and to the gate, where he muttered the magical password to get in, then continued his way up to the manor. Once inside, he summoned a house-elf quickly. He barely noticed the teens weight in his arms, but the fool child seemed to have lost quite a lot of blood, and he knew he needed attention quickly.

"Yes, Master Snape?" Honey said, eyeing the unconscious boy in Snape's arms in some confusion.

"Is Lucius still awake?"

"Yes, Master Snape. Master Malfoy and young Master Malfoy are in the library."

"Tell Lucius he's needed in the guest room on the second floor." Severus ordered, "and have Ivy and Boo get my medical kit from my lab."

Honey nodded and vanished. Carrying Harry carefully, Severus hurried up the stairs, past the grand and somewhat magical features that made Malfoy Manor one of the most impressive manors that still stood. He ducked into the main guest room on the second floor, and lay Harry on the bed just as two loud _crack _sounds announced the arrival of Boo and Ivy. The house elves scurried across the room towards him, carrying the large bag of medical supplies between them. A sensation of calm determination settled over the potions master as he opened the bag and began to rifle through it. Never mind what Pomphrey thought of him, this was something he was good at, something he knew how to do. Just because some stuck up medi-witch wouldn't let him near her hospital wing... He pushed such thoughts aside and pulled the appropriate items from the bag. Quickly, he set to work healing the boy's wounds. A moment later, when the blood was cleared away, Severus could not hold back a gasp of shock as he saw the wound on Harry's neck.

Gingerly, Severus reached out and touched the two slightly raised puncture wounds on Harry's neck. Then he reached up, and touched the scarred skin on his own neck, what remained of the exact same kind of wound, which Severus had received in his last year at Hogwarts. As Severus watched, the boy's shaking stopped, though the older man knew that despite this, and despite the blank expression on Harry's face, the pain hadn't faded any. The child's body was going into shock. A moment later, Harry began to change, his hair, features and skin shifting with the new demon blood that flowed through him.

Dropping his hand from his scar, Severus allowed his own glamor to fade away, revealing his own True Form. And as Severus gazed down at the teenager he had made it his _mission _to hate, he muttered aloud to the empty room,

"This is _not _good."

* * *

On the floor above where Severus Snape knelt beside the bed of Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy and his father leaned across from each other over the surface of a marble set of Wizard's Chess. Evenings like this in the Malfoy household were rare... evenings where there was no imminent danger, no dark plan that Voldemort needed his father or Severus' help with, no silly chore Severus needed to run for the Order of the Phoenix, and no meetings. Things had gotten especially hectic the last several weeks, since the Ministry was trying to find evidence that Lucius had been at the battle at the Ministry of Magic last June. So far, they had found nothing, but it didn't make their surprise raids or constant suspicion any less easier to bear, and Draco was glad for their absence the last several days. A calm peace had settled over the house in the last hour, and though it was strange, Draco appreciated the silence.

As if to mock his thoughts, it was at that moment that Honey appeared in the middle of the library with a loud _crack_. He sighed and sat back in his chair. Lucius flashed his son an apologetic look before asking,

"What is it, Honey?"

"Honey saw Master Snape downstairs carry in a body. Master Snape asks Master Malfoy to meet him in guest room, second floor."

Lucius exchanged a wide-eyed glance with his son. A _body_? Severus had sometimes gone to extreme means to protect his family, and their positions in the war, but he'd hoped it would never get quite this bad. However, no matter what Severus' reasons were for dragging bodies into Malfoy Manor, it was clear he needed help. Swiftly, he stood and hurried from the room, Draco at his heels. They hurried down the hall and down a flight of stairs to the second floor, and into the guest bedroom, where they stopped in surprise at the sight before them.

Harry Potter lay peacefully on the bed in the guest room, badly injured, judging by the amount of blood, but apparently alive. Severus was on the ground next to him, his head bent as though he were praying, though Lucius could tell by the dark expression on the other man's face that he as thinking. The truly shocking thing, aside from finding Harry at Malfoy Manor, of all places, was that Harry looked completely different then when Draco had seen him a few weeks before, and that Severus was in his True Form. Severus rarely dropped the glamor that hid his true appearance, even around the Manor.

Lucius and Draco watched the two of them, their breaths bated as they stared in amazement at the two vampires. Harry's skin had become more and more pale, until it was almost a pure alabaster white. His eyes were closed, but the skin around it looked darkened, as if it were bruised. His hair had shortened, but instead of resorting to its previous messy state it now spiked out. Severus, beside him, had the same pale skin and bruised eyes, but his hair had grown longer instead of shortening, and was silky and glossy, not at all like the off-putting grease-head of his glamor.

"Severus...?" Lucius questioned quietly.

The other man blinked back to the present, his dark eyes glowing with fathomless depth and and light for a moment before they cleared and his glamor slid back into place.

"Ah, Lucius, Draco."

"What is _he _doing here?" Draco demanded.

Severus sighed. "I found him outside, he passed out near the Manor. I don't know if he was headed this way on purpose or not, if he even knows where Malfoy Manor is. But, either way, I couldn't leave him out there. I didn't realize what he was until a few moments ago."

Lucius looked like he was struggling with a decision, but after a minute he finally ventured,

"You didn't...?"

Severus glanced sharply at his friend. "No! If I were going to Turn anyone, it certainly wouldn't be _him_."

Lucius gave an abrupt nod and glanced down at the sleeping boy. "Does he know?"

"I don't believe so." Severus said, standing and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "The bite is recent. He probably passed out after he was bitten, then made it here somehow."

Severus scowled down at the boy, not entirely sure how he had managed it. He _remembered _the pain the Turning caused, and didn't think he would have managed to walk in that state. He had been bitten in his final year at Hogwarts, and it was only thanks to Dumbledore that he was allowed to finish his schooling, and was able to get a job. It was a major part of the reason he was so indebted to the Headmaster, and why he did work for the Order despite the fact that he didn't agree with most of the Order's policies.

As they stood there, Harry shifted on the bed, his eyelids fluttering. Cursing under his breath, Severus took several steps back. Taking their cue from Severus, Lucius and Draco stepped away from the bed as well, and Draco reached for his wand.

"That won't be of any use to you, Draco." Severus said. "Vampires are extremely strong, and Harry, like myself, has the added advantage of being a wizard. I doubt we could take him down with spells. If I have to, I can fight him off."

"Why would he attack us?" Draco demanded, hiding his anxiety. He knew how powerful Harry was. With the added magical and physical abilities of a vampire, that power would only increase.

"You know what a vampire is, Draco." Severus replied sternly. "It is a demon inside the body of a human. Now while that doesn't mean all vampires are evil, it does mean they are very dark, very suspicious and very temperamental. Right now the demon inside Harry has control. That should only last a few days, before Harry is able to find the balance between himself and the demon. For now..."

Harry blinked his eyes furiously as he woke, and for a moment, they glowed an ethereal green before flashing red with a mindless, sourceless fury. That was when Harry's instinct seemed to kick in. Now fully awake, he sprung from the bed and crouched down low, staring at them with an odd wildness in his eyes. Draco had to remind himself that this was _not _the Golden Boy of Hogwarts, but a very powerful and _very _angry demon, trapped inside Harry's body. Without any warning, Harry lunged at Severus and Lucius, snarling. His fangs distended, he managed to knock Lucius to the ground, and was going for his face when Draco, closer to Lucius then Severus was, reacted, pushing the vampire roughly off of his father and scrambling to stand between Harry and his father.

"Draco, no!" Lucius cried, rushing towards his son at the same time as Severus.

Before anyone could pull Draco away, however, Harry paused, staring at Draco with a quizzical expression on his face. He blinked, and the green sheen returned to his gaze, his fangs retracting into his gums, his expression glazed and confused.

"Draco...?"

Severus quickly stepped up behind Harry and pressed his wand into Harry's neck, muttering a spell. Harry went limp and Severus caught him, carrying him back towards the bed.

"He shouldn't have woken up so soon." Severus was muttering, "This should, at least, keep him asleep for the next twenty four hours."

Severus didn't seem to notice that the room had fallen into a sort of shocked silence, or that both Draco and Lucius were looking back and forth between Harry and Severus.

"What was _that _about?" Draco finally managed to ask, when it looked as if Severus truly didn't notice their confusion.

"It's nothing for you to worry about Draco." Severus said quietly, not looking at either of the Malfoys.

Draco and Lucius exchanged glances, both realizing that Severus was keeping something from them. But Lucius shook his head when Draco opened his mouth to speak.

"Draco, it's late. You should be in your rooms, and I should be in mine."

Draco rolled his eyes slightly, but moved to obey his father, halting in the doorway to look at the boy on the bed. He knew he should feel anger, hatred. After all, over the last few years Harry had been his worst enemy, and now Harry had put their family in great trouble with the Ministry. But he'd never been able to hate Harry nearly as much as he professed to. Still, he had the feeling that things were never going to be quite the same around Malfoy Manor again.

With one last glance towards the bed, he left the room.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy waited in calm silence until his son had left the room, but the moment he was certain Draco was out of earshot, he turned swiftly to Severus.

"Severus, what does this mean?"

"You know what it means."

Lucius was shaking his head fiercely. "No. I mean, _yes_, I do, but, they seem so..."

"Ill-suited?" Severus asked with a smirk. "That is what many thought of us, when we became friends." Severus reminded him.

The reminder sobered Lucius' frantic mind for a moment, and he shot Severus a look of sympathy and a great amount of guilt. He and Severus had been friends since their first year of Hogwarts, despite the fact that Lucius had been in his seventh and final year and Severus only in his first. They'd continued their strange and unlikely friendship, and when Severus was bitten by a vampire in his seventh year, he'd discovered that Lucius, his best and only friend, was his Mate. But by then, Lucius was 23 years old, and already deeply in love with Narcissa.

So Severus had struggled to remain Lucius' friend, suffering through Lucius relationship with Narcissa, the birth of Lucius' child, until Lucius and Narcissa had separated two years before, and Severus had been unable to stop himself from blurting out the truth. Lucius had hardly been able to believe it; he had been in love with Severus since Severus' fifth year, but believed Severus would never accept him. On some level, Lucius knew he had a lot to make up for.

"Yes, it worked out for us." Lucius admitted, "But for Harry and Draco...?" He sighed, staring down at the young vampire on the bed. "My son, the Vampire's mate. Do you think we should tell him?"

Severus frowned, deep in thought, before finally shaking his head. "No. Not yet. Not until we speak to Harry. It's possible that their past will interfere too much; Harry may not want to act on this at all."

Lucius nodded, but both men knew it was a slim chance. Whatever animosity had existed between the boys before, it would mean nothing to Harry's vampire side, who had recognized his soul mate. Still, the human side of Harry had to adjust to this, and would love Draco as well, in a more human way. Perhaps in a more fallible way. Lucius knew there was nothing more they could do about it for now; nothing could be decided on until they spoke with Harry.

A short distance away, on the bed, Harry James Potter dreamed of blond teens with skin nearly as pale as his own...

* * *

**A/N: **Just to let people know: Chapters will be on the shorter side, like this one, but I will update frequently.


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